


The Scent of Rain

by seperis



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-22
Updated: 2002-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you think?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I should be ashamed of myself. If I had shame, that is. Thanks to Victoria P for looking it over and liking it!

The steam room was unoccupied, and Ororo slipped in, unwrapping the towel now that she could be assured of privacy. Public nudity meant nothing to her--but she'd noted in the Mansion that others did not share her opinions on the subject and, true to her nature, she'd adapted herself to achieve a balance between natural inclination and the comfort level of others.

She liked the quiet of the room--the heat sinking deep into her aching muscles, the soft sound of the steam hissing gently in her ears, the thick walls assuring that whatever went on outside this room, it wouldn't invade her peace, and she wanted peace.

How endlessly odd, that she could say that with such sincerity and still go out so often to fight. How ironic, that she trained six hours every day in the arts of war. Closing her eyes, she was at home in herself, surrounded by the living silence that bespoke a perfection she had always wanted inside herself, that she'd never quite achieved. If the most violent impulses of nature were her mutation, she was the calm center that wondered, sometimes with bitterness, why she couldn't have received the gentler aspects of it.

The door opened and Ororo grabbed for her towel, turning to see the intruder that walked in as if he owned the room. And she resented it, even though she shouldn't, even when he turned on that charming smile that had melted more than a few young female hearts around the mansion.

  
Difference was, she wasn't so young that she could be fooled by it.

"Logan."

"'Ro." Another quick smile, and he made for the opposite bench without further conversation--she liked that about him; he didn't waste words, and despite her resentment, she took in with some interest the loose drawstring pants marked with patches of sweat, the long bare torso, the utterly unreadable expression as he closed his eyes and took a long breath that spoke more to her of satisfaction than exhaustion.

And she, who understood nature, was no more immune than anyone else to that specific hint of pure sexuality he exuded without effort--or the fact she hadn't seen him this relaxed in a very long time.

The mission had been good for him, all things considered

"Have a nice night?" she asked, without even meaning to, and got a quirked eyebrow and a slight grin for her trouble, without ever opening his eyes.

"There are definite compensations to being an X-Man," he answered provocatively, eyes still closed, and Ororo found herself moving on the bench to sit opposite him, an eight foot separation that seemed far less lengthy than might first appear.

"Use those abilities for the good of humanity?" she asked softly, and he opened one eye directly on her new location--somewhat startling, and she felt herself draw back a little, from the sheer intensity there, unmuted by distance.

"Abilities?" A pause and both eyes opened on her--animal eyes, with the same mysterious clarity, as if he was hiding everything and nothing at all. Cool on her skin, appreciation when they slid up her without trying to conceal what he was doing, and goosebumps leaped to life beneath that intense regard. "Comes in handy." He crossed his arms across his chest and her eyes were drawn down again, onto the drawstring pants that held her eyes even when she didn't mean to stare, and she slowly let her gaze lift to meet his.

"Such as?"

Slowly, he leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. The slight hint of a smile turned up his lips as he met her gaze. Then slowly stood up, every muscle moving liquid-smooth under his skin, and he padded toward her. Ororo found herself standing up, leaning back against the wall, his hand bracing beside her head, and he leaned close, taking a deep breath.

  
"I like your scent," he whispered, close to her ear, and his hand slid to the top of her towel, held by the tips of her fingers, tracing a slow path from the exposed skin of her chest to the hollow of her throat.

"What is it?" she murmured, perfectly still as the finger slid slowly across her shoulder, drawing a line in the sweat and water, lifting wet hair from her back.

"The forest after a storm," he answered, and a brush of teeth against her ear, so light the skin of her back shivered, goosebumps rising in a line down her spine. "The desert at sunset." Another brush, lower, against the pulse of her throat, and then against her ear again. "Life."

She turned her head to see him and then a touch of her mouth, a ghost of a kiss, a brush of air against her skin. She shut her eyes, leaning forward as fingers threaded through her hair, drawing her closer, no force in it at all, and that surprised her. She'd expected something else entirely.

"Don't move," he murmured, kissing her again, tongue sliding between her lips, against her teeth that she parted at the gentle insistence, the careful slide of his free hand across her shoulder, ghosting across the edge of the towel and she let it fall from slack fingers. A knowing hand slid down, across her chest, over her breast, cupping lightly and he deepened the kiss. Exploring her mouth while his hand slid over the strong muscles of her stomach, down over her hip, up around to the small of her back, easing her back against the wall until it lined her spine and then he moved, so suddenly it startled her, he was kneeling at her feet, nothing of either submission or control, nothing at all. He lifted her thigh, drawing it across his shoulder before a hand traced the line of her knee, sliding upward until he brushed against her--

"Yes," she heard herself say, as he pressed her legs apart, sliding closer, and then her other leg was lifted and she was braced against the wall and over his shoulders without anything else to support her. Her hands flew down, grasping frantically at cool tile, then one slid to his head, and she heard the soft growl, almost a purr, that sent a shiver up her spine. Lightly, a tongue brushed against her, and she arched into it.

"Balance," he murmured, shifting closer, and she'd never felt more vulnerable in her life. Then another brush of his tongue against her, the hand on her thigh moving to her hip briefly, then sliding downward and inside of her, a shot of heat going through her body. Another low growl, and Logan switched gears and licked the length of her, driving another shudder through her entire body.

Ororo shut her eyes--she was deep in the forest, thick wet heat surrounding her body, soaking into every pore, a rich heat between her legs beginning to burn through her. She moaned softly at the feeling, fingers sinking deep into thick dark hair, heels pressed into firm flesh, her body beginning to tremble, nails digging deep into warm, water-slicked tile. She heard her breathing, loud and harsh in the quiet broken only with the soft growl that made her shiver and the sound of the steam jets overhead.

When she came, it was delicious, a rolling wave that climbed up through her, and she smiled as her head slid forward, and gently, she felt herself lowered to the bench, hands sliding up the length of her thighs, her sides, up to her face, and a brush of lips against hers, salty-tangy, herself. Opening her eyes, she stared into unreadable hazel ones.

"You taste like the ocean," he whispered, and her towel was slid gently over her trembling body. Eyes closing, she leaned against the hot tile and heard the door close, a smile still trembling on her lips.

The End


End file.
